Later, in the Studio of Our Ecclesiarch Most Heavenly…

Situated at the uppermost floor of the Ancient Cathedral’s administrative wing, the Studio was a massive penthouse adorned lavishly with the riches of Arcadia and the Central Church, with all manner of gilded furniture, embroidered silk cushions, velvet sofas, and servants dressed in finery and silver masks. The air itself, light with the scent of lavender fragrance and the aroma of freshly brewed tea.

It was, for all of Arcadia’s existence, prepared for one lady’s tireless work. Iris de Escaflora, who reigned supreme as the Ecclesiarch of the Holy See of Arcadia and its Central Church. Who was, by popular legend, the current incarnation of Elicia’s Handmaiden. Like a twin sister, a lesser image of the living god herself. An Archon of Elicia in her own right, just like many of her contemporaries with their Viziers at their beck and call as guardians and lesser administrators.

With Claire weighing down upon her shoulders, Elena moved as deftly as she could towards the sight of two familiar faces sitting around an ornate coffee table set with jewelled saucers and teacups of white and gold. The cultist of Izoria Vhal, Cecelia de Isile, had been handed over the Lightsworn soldiers of the Cathedral with little fuss. And now, there was a promise to be fulfilled.

A promise, indeed. After all, an Archon’s word was said to carry the weight of the world. Elena was, admittedly, a mere Vizier of the Eye. Even so, she liked very much to think that by proxy of association, it applied to herself as well.

“Hey, I’m back.”

The two Archons sitting at the coffee table turned to look at Elena. The first, was the Ecclesiarch herself, Iris de Escaflora, who had long silver hair and golden eyes, her tall and lithe body dressed in white lingerie adorned from head to toe in silver and amethyst jewellery. The second, who smoked lazily from a jewelled pipe held in her little hands, was Elena’s mistress, the Eye of Elicia known as Nhaka Mezalune. She was Hellbourne, childlike yet ancient, a purple-eyed Beholder whose petite and girlish frame was dressed in black, where an array of crystalline eyestalks could be seen fanning out from her pink-haired head like purple shards.

“You have returned, as Lady Mezalune said you would,” Iris said, her voice cold yet gentle and calm like a winter’s sonata. “How can we be of service, Lady de L’Enfer?”

“Indeed, indeed!” Nhaka added excitedly, her voice a fiendish cackle as she smiled sweetly at Elena. “Found anything good out there, my pet?”

“Yeah. About that, my Lady…”

Elena gestured to the unconscious lady resting upon her shoulders.

“Her name’s Claire de la Lune. Uh… this isn’t what it looks like, I swear…”

In response, Nhaka giggled like a little girl. Iris, on the other hand, remained unamused.

“She’s afflicted by some kinda… curse?” Elena added, ignoring her mistress’s childishness. “Iris, I came here to ask if you could…”

“Set this Lady de la Lune down on the sofa, quickly,” Iris commanded, as she rose to her full height. “I sense it as well, and you would explain yourself later.”

“Right, of course.”

Moving quickly towards an unoccupied sofa, Elena placed Claire as gently as she could upon its richly woven velvet. Nhaka watched on with mild amusement, taking a long drag from her jewelled pipe while Iris placed a hand adorned in silver chains and amethysts upon Claire’s forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Elena asked, when Iris withdrew her hand. “It’s what I feared, ain’t it?”

“You are right to fear, Lady de L’Enfer,” Iris remarked expressionlessly. “This is a very powerful enchantment. Hidden, as well.”

“But you can handle it, right?”

“Of course, if we take the preliminary steps. Lady Mezalune…”

Putting away her pipe, Nhaka stood up and grinned mischievously at both Elena and Iris.

“Lady Mezalune,” Iris said again, tilting her head slightly in acknowledgement of her fellow Archon's presence. “Please, focus your anti-magic ray upon this Lady de la Lune.

“Sure!”

The fringe of pink hair covering Nhaka’s forehead parted sidewards, revealing a massive eldritch eye that crackled intensely in shifting shades of purple and black. It all happened bloodlessly as she gazed upon Claire’s unconsciousness, for the Hellbourne were beings of pure magic brought forth from the realm of Chaos by the eldritch rites.

“Anytime, now… there we go!”

A white sigil with lines forming the image of a writhing serpent, manifested upon Claire’s forehead. Flickering, at first, only to suddenly freeze into place like a tattoo.

“Look at that little snake! It tried to hide…” Nhaka squealed gleefully. “But, it can’t! Iris, won’t you do the honours?”

Iris looked at Elena, who had stepped aside and crossed her arms, her brows knit deeply in silent thought. She nodded serenely, as what appeared like the faintest of smiles formed upon her elegant features.

“Of course. Anything for a faithful Vizier of Lady Mezalune.”

“Really?” Elena asked carefully, as the tips of her elvish ears tensed up. “No strings attached, at all?”

“Of course not, silly!” Nhaka interjected mirthfully, her eyes and crystalline eyestalks still focused on Claire. “We expect an explanation! Besides, you know what Iris is like…”

“Damn, I knew it’d never be that simple…”

“Hush now, the both of you,” Iris chided, closing her golden eyes as she knelt. “I need to focus.”

And as silence blanketed the Studio like a veil, as tears of blood trickled down Iris’s cheeks, she brought both of her jewel-adorned hands together in prayer.

“By the grace of Elicia... she is my mistress and divine lord…”

She brought her hands apart, revealing the light of her sigil that had formed upon both her palms. Their golden lines formed the image of angelic wings in flight, like divinity made manifest upon the earthliness of Melodia.

“Her blood is blessed… and by her mercy, mine as well…”

The angelic sigils began to coalesce, concentrating their power into a golden orb that floated gracefully between Iris’s palms. It was, for what Elena knew of the Ecclesiarch’s sorcery and personal combat style, a Lightsphere – a large concentration of holy magic made to flexibly serve as both sword and shield, and possibly more. She found herself stepping back unwittingly from its sheer potency, for it was truly a power worthy of an Archon.

“The blood, it spills forth from my hands. Bearing my soul, and hers combined…”

Slowly, but surely, Iris brought the Lightsphere towards Claire. It completely subsumed the white glow of the serpentine sigil that had been frozen upon her forehead. What remained of its holy potency spilled over into her body, covering her skin in an outline of golden warmth that gradually faded into her very being.

“That we may be eternal, and undying…”

Elena smiled. Claire was still asleep, but her breathing had finally relaxed into a rhythmic certainty. Light, and serene. Peaceful, even.

“Lady de la Lune is safe,” Iris stated, the silver and amethyst jewellery adorning her nearly-naked body jingling softly as she rose to her feet. “She will awaken soon enough, after a night’s worth of restful sleep.”

“That’s good,” Elena said, nodding in approval as she watched Iris’s silver-masked servants attend to their mistress’s bloodied face. “She’s my only lead, so…”

“So, like what Iris said!” Nhaka exclaimed, the gaze of her eyes and crystalline eyestalks now solely upon her Vizier as she plopped herself down upon a nearby sofa. “You, my pet, have an explanation to make! Iris and I, we're both waiting for it with bated breath!”

“Right, uh…”

“Well, go on, my dearest Elena! No pressure, as I’d like to say!”

With a loud, yet breathless cough, Elena cleared her throat. There was no pressure, indeed, for proper conduct was always expected of any Vizier of the Eye. Even in the toughest of binds, and the most perilous of situations, it was to be expected as one would the sunrise at dawn.

“I found the bad guys behind that ritual magic you detected, my Lady. A dragon called Izoria Vhal is behind it, and he’s got some kinda illusionary trap set up. Which, I suspect, was done to gather prey for whatever ritual he’s got in the works.”

Reaching into her pockets, she retrieved the half-dragon’s esoteric signet and offered it to Nhaka.

“Found his hideout, too. I couldn’t get past that trap he set up. It’s really powerful illusion magic, and it’s too risky, y’know? Dragon stuff. And so, I was thinking you and I could…”

“Dispel it? Sure!” Nhaka remarked lazily, her eyes enraptured by the half-dragon’s signet. “I’d assume this enchantment comes from the same stuff as that trap you’re talking about…”

“Feels that way, yeah. This signet’s like… the portable version? Y’know, like a pocket mirror?”

“Indeed, so that’s a simple matter! That said, I’d very much like to know…”

“Yes, my Lady? I suspect I know what you're about to ask, but fire away.”

With a smile, Nhaka gestured towards Claire, who was still fast asleep upon the sofa.

“You're spot-on about that, Elena! So, where’d you find her, huh? I think I’ve seen her somewhere before. And I have to say, by mortal standards, she’s very, very…”

“I ran into her while I was…”

“Investigating? Lucky you! She’s so pretty!”

“That’s true, my Lady. I don’t mean this as some kinda pick-up line, but she seems so familiar. I actually…”

Elena frowned. Much to her dismay and annoyance, her mistress had already looked away from her, choosing instead to gaze dreamily upon Claire’s slumber with all of her eyes and eyestalks.

“You mentioned a dragon, did you not?” Iris said, her golden eyes upon Elena’s exasperation. “Izoria Vhal, was it?”

In response, Elena nodded.

“I remember that name, Lady de L’Enfer. He is the older brother of our fellow Archon, Terask Dagon,” Iris said, her words quiet and solemn. “The Cathanian Imperium has existed long before Elicia and Arcadia. In centuries past, there was a time when Izoria Vhal was their crown prince.”

“Sounds like he had a pretty good thing going for ‘em,” Elena remarked out loud, furrowing her brow at Iris. “What happened, then?”

“It is not known in detail, I am afraid. The matters of dragons are… hidden, to say the least. What I do know, however, is that Terask Dagon wants him dead. Fifteen years ago, to my predecessor, the Sorcerer King’s envoys delivered an edict that sought his death.”

“I suppose there were some bad manners involved between ‘em, huh?”

“That is a light way of describing it,” Iris stated with a thoughtful nod. “Izoria Vhal would have died, edict or not. He was imprisoned for centuries with a curse placed upon his scales.”

“Eventually, slowly, and painfully!” Nhaka added excitedly. “I suppose Dagon just wanted to be sure, huh? Amounted to nothing, unfortunately!”

“Yes, Lady Mezalune. It was to end that way, but he escaped without a trace in recent times. We thought him to be dead, or far beyond this world.”

Elena frowned, and crossed her arms. Ten years, she had been in service to her Lady, the Archon who was the Eye of Elicia. Fifteen, was five years too early. The thought that such an evil bastard had been hiding within the Upper City for so long, dragon or not, made her insides boil. At least, she was sure she would feel that way, if her organs still worked.

“Only now, does his presence seem to surface,” Iris added, the serenity of her voice marred with uncertainty. “It is not an accident, but an unintended effect of the ritual that he has been working on. He is likely aware, and will know that we are coming for him.”

“More exciting if he does, I’d say!” Nhaka squealed in reply, giving Iris a big smile. “It’s unlikely that Vhal’s going anywhere, anytime soon! I’m fully aware of what Dagon’s curse can do to a dragon’s scales, and this signet you’ve given me will open the way to let us finish him off!”

“Indeed, my Lady. We can start working towards breaking that damned barrier. For now, though…”

Moving decisively towards Claire, Elena picked her up as gently as she could, placing her dead weight once more upon her shoulders.

“I’ll be taking her with me, alright?”

“She would be better off in my care, Lady de L’Enfer,” Iris stated, as Nhaka watched on with an even bigger smile. “I will have my devatas tend to her.”

“I don’t disagree with that at all, Iris,” Elena said, the gaze of her crimson eyes now firmly upon the door. “But, she’s my responsibility, and I’ve gotta take care of her myself. It’s only right, y’know? And…”

“You have a crush on her, do you not?”

Elena froze dead in her tracks. Nhaka fell into a fit of hysterical laughter.

“You are not being very subtle about this, Lady de L’Enfer.”

“Damn it!” It’s not anything like that, alright? It’s my responsibility, and something about her just feels… familiar.”

“Familiar, Lady de L’Enfer?” Iris asked innocently. “She is a mortal. You have likely been in more battles than the number of years that she has lived.”

“Hey now, I don’t wanna be rude. Especially after what’ve you done for me…” Elena grumbled. “But lay off, alright? This is the part that I’d claim that I know what I’m doing, but that’s clearly not the case. So, just let me do it, won't ya?”

“That line of reasoning makes no sense at all, Lady de L’Enfer.”

“I’m just glad I decided to have afternoon tea with you today, my dear Iris!” Nhaka squealed, as she and Iris watched Elena walk away with Claire in tow. “To think that in ten years, my pet Lich has finally found true love!”

“True love…” Elena uttered under her breath. “Yeah, right.”

“If you wish to proceed,” Iris said. “Answer my question, Lady de L’Enfer.”

Once more, Elena stopped in her tracks. She turned her head slightly to look at both Iris and Nhaka.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this for Lady de la Lune?”

“Honestly?” Elena asked in reply, before continuing onward with the door in her sights. “I dunno. Call it a gut feeling, maybe.”